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yuna / 23 / oc/artdump / inbox is open  

[strawberri-yan]

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WARNING: THIS ACCOUNT IS DEAD DOVE/ YANDERE / DARK FICTION

DO NOT FOLLOW IF YOU’RE UNDERAGE I WILL BLOCK YOU

yuna / 23 / taurus / 

This blog is where I write/draw yandere/dark content from my separate account.  

I don’t take requests unless it interests me. 

PLEASE NOTE: My works are entirerly fictional, I do not condone SA, stalking, or anything in IRL. Please block if you do not like.  

If you’d like to tip me: https://ko-fi.com/yunacorhn

[strawberri-yan]

Repost cuz I deleted the other one by accident

[strawberri-yan]

He would

[strawberri-yan]

Imagine being smothered between qifrey and phainon

[fartingdoggi]

[strawberri-yan]

This is just a random compliment but I really enjoy your writing and art! Even the reblogs of old stuff 🥺

I don't have a lot of notifs on in terms of this app but I get so genuinely giddy when I see one from your blog

I hope that wasn't weird, I've been trying to be more positive in general and let people know that they bring a bit of joy to my day by being themselves.

TYSM <33 I APPRECIATE THE KIND WORDS ILY ANON <3 Been so busy with work and school im not able to rant on my yandere bs with yall but it makes me happy that you guys like my stuff :,3

[strawberri-yan]

Still my favorite shot I drew huehue

[strawberri-yan]

[wip]

i just care them

[strawberri-yan]

a beta in a room with two alphas oh geez

[strawberri-yan]

I’ll post the full on twt

[strawberri-yan]

That Lohen and illuga post is peak

Absolute cinema

Illuga is Lohen's impulse control, unfortunately he's very weak to his dumbass man so shenanigans ensure

On the plus side reader will be absolutely spoiled rotten.

lohen is just unfortunately the devil on illuga's shoulder. i feel like most of the time illuga would look at his dumb twink counterpart of a bf and smack him on the head and call it a day. But then, when it comes to you, bc illuga is but a shy, budding lil yandere who just needs a light push (and lohen, THE mr. yandere, would be more than happy to enable), then it's so joever for you, unfortunately.

its just that illuga is just awkward and doesnt know how to yandere properly.

illuga: i love y/n alot.. its too bad that they have a s/o already..

lohen, covered in blood and gore while holding the decapitated head of ur s/o: huh ?

[halcyon-hyta]

── .✦ 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 moodboard.

[strawberri-yan]

Beta! Spy Reader x Enigma! Prince Phainon

You don't remember exactly when it all went wrong.

Maybe it was the first time you smiled at him across the training yard, back when you were both young and the world still made sense. Maybe it was the night you stayed up late together, trading stories by firelight, and you let yourself forget that he was your mark and you were a blade hidden in silk. Maybe it was the moment you realized that his laughter made something warm curl in your chest as something you had no name for and no permission to feel.

Or maybe it was simply the day you were caught.

The throne room is cold. The marble beneath your knees is unforgiving, and the chains around your wrists bite into your skin with every shallow breath you take. Guards stand on either side of you, their hands on their swords, their eyes boring into your bowed head. You should be afraid. You are afraid. But you've spent years learning to wear your fear like armor, and so you lift your chin and let a smirk curl across your lips.

"Well," you say, and your voice echoes off the gilded walls, sharp and careless, "I must say, I expected a warmer welcome. I've heard such wonderful things about Solarian hospitality."

The guards don't react. They've been trained better than that.

But the figure on the throne: the young prince, the hero of a hundred battles, the man you once called friend doesn't react either. And that is what makes your smirk falter. Phainon sits in the great chair, his white hair catching the torchlight like spun silver, his blue eyes fixed on you with an expression you cannot read. He is beautiful. He has always been beautiful, with that face that bards write songs about and enemies underestimate. But there is no warmth in his gaze now. No recognition of the long nights you spent talking, the battles you fought side by side, the easy camaraderie you carefully, deliberately cultivated.

There is only stillness. And something else. Something that makes your skin prickle with unease.

"Leave us," Phainon says.

The guards obey instantly, their boots clicking against marble as they file out of the throne room. The great doors close behind them with a sound like a coffin being sealed.

You are alone with him.

The silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. Your smirk has faded entirely now. You don't like this. You planned for anger, for accusations, for a dramatic execution or a lengthy imprisonment. You did not plan for this and for the prince to sit on his throne and simply... look at you.

"Aren't you going to say something?" you demand, "Gloat? Threaten? I betrayed you. I sold your kingdom's secrets to your enemies. I smiled in your face while plotting your downfall. Surely that deserves some reaction."

Phainon rises from the throne.

He moves slowly, deliberately, each step measured and calm. He descends the dais, his boots silent on the steps, and walks toward you until he stands directly before you. You have to crane your neck to look up at him. You hate it.

"I loved you," he says.

The words are simple. Quiet.

"I loved you," he repeats, "and I thought you loved me too. I thought we were... I thought you were mine."

Your throat tightens. You force a laugh, brittle and sharp. "Love? Don't be ridiculous. I was doing my job. You were a mark. Nothing more."

Phainon's expression doesn't change. But something in his eyes flickers.

"The king," he says, "your king. He poisoned your mind, didn't he? Fed you lies about my kingdom, my family, me. Made you believe that we were the enemy, that your betrayal was justified."

"My loyalty is to my king," you say, and the words come out stiff, rehearsed. "Not to some.. some little pup who plays at being a hero."

The silence that follows is deafening. Then Phainon laughs.

It is not a kind laugh. It is soft, low, and utterly without humor. He shakes his head, and when he looks at you again, his blue eyes have darkened. Deepened. Become something else entirely.

"Little pup," he repeats. "You think I'm a little pup."

The air in the room changes.

You feel it before you understand it a shift in pressure, a weight pressing against your chest, a presence that seems to fill the throne room until there is no room for anything else. It is warm and thick and overwhelming, and it is coming from Phainon.

Your knees buckle.

You catch yourself, barely, but your body is trembling, your hands shaking, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. You have never felt anything like this. You are a beta this immune to the pheromones that rule alphas and omegas, untouched by the biological imperative that drives lesser creatures. You have always been proud of that. You have always held yourself above the messy, instinct-driven dynamics of the secondary genders.

But this???? This is not normal.

Phainon's pheromones flood the room like a tide, and your body responds in an instant, you fall to your knees. You stare up at him with wide, confused eyes, your mind scrambling to understand what is happening.

"An enigma," you breathe. "You're an enigma."

It is a legend. A myth. An alpha of alphas, so rare that most scholars doubt they have ever existed. A being whose pheromones can affect even betas, can bring the strongest warrior to their knees, can command obedience with nothing more than their presence.

Phainon looks down at you, and his eyes are dark. Possessive. Hungry.

"I didn't want you to find out like this," he says softly. "I wanted to tell you myself, in my own time. I wanted you to choose me, not because of what I am, but because of who I am." He crouches, bringing himself to your level, and his hand reaches out to cup your chin, tilting your face up. "But you've made that impossible, haven't you? You've forced my hand."

You want to pull away. You want to spit in his face, to tell him that no amount of pheromones can make you betray your king, to cling to the last shreds of your defiance. But your body will not move. Your eyes will not leave his. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, and something deep in your chest aches.

"I should lock you away," Phainon murmurs, his thumb brushing across your lower lip. "Throw away the key. Keep you in a tower where no one can reach you, where you can't hurt me, where you can't leave."

His hand tightens on your chin.

"I should keep you there until you learn. Until you understand that your place is not in the shadows, serving a king who would discard you the moment you stopped being useful." His eyes burn. "Your place is here. At my side. Under me. Warming my bed and rearing with my pups and belonging to me."

Your mind reels.

"Pups ?" you choke out. "I'm a beta. I can't—"

"I am an enigma." Phainon's voice is soft, almost gentle but there is steel beneath it. "I can do many things that alphas cannot. Including putting children in beta wombs."

The words should horrify you. They do horrify you. But your body, your traitorous, uncontrollable body shivers with something that is not fear. Phainon sees it. His lips curve into a smile that is neither kind or warm, but rather deeply, darkly satisfied.

"Oh," he breathes. "You're not as immune as you pretend to be, are you? Your body knows what your mind refuses to accept. You want this. You want me."

"I don't—"

"Shh." Phainon presses a finger to your lips, silencing you. "Don't lie to me, you’ve done enough of that."

He rises, pulling you to your feet with impossible ease. You sway, your bound hands digging into your back, your body pressed against his chest. He is warm, so warm, and his scent that was rich of pine and snow fills your lungs with every breath.

"I'm going to give you a choice," Phainon says. "Not because you deserve one. But because I loved you once, and some part of me still hopes that the person I loved is still in there somewhere."

He tilts your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"Swear your loyalty to me. Not to your king, not to your empire, not to anyone else. Me. Become mine, willingly, and I will give you everything. My kingdom, my body, my heart. I will cherish you. I will protect you. I will never let anyone harm you again."

His grip tightens.

"Or I will take what I want anyway. I will lock you in my tower, and I will visit you every night, and I will fill you with my seed until your belly swells and your mind breaks and you cannot remember a time when you did not belong to me."

Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps. Your heart pounds against your ribs.

"Choose," he whispers. "Now."

You open your mouth. Yet no words come out.

[strawberri-yan]

entire time at work I’ve just been thinking about stuffing Qifrey’s cock and balls down my throat I want him so bad

[hatsu2]

old Jing Yuan sketches coz I miss him

[hatsu2]

i thought i wanted to make him look a little sinister

[sodaneko]

dick from a well-respected man having you in a devastatingly disrespectful position

[yandere-romanticaa]

He can have me absolutely whenever he wants

[strawberri-yan]

alpha!yandere qifrey x omega! Reader

Tags: manipulation, memory erasure, possessive qifrey

You opened your eyes to soft candlelight and the scent of jasmine tea.

You were lying in a bed. Not the one in the guest room, but Qifrey's bed. The silk sheets were warm and comfortable, smelling nothing but of the alpha. As you lie into the soft sheets, you could feel a damp cloth cooling your forehead. And sitting beside you, holding your hand with tenderness, was Qifrey. You make a strained sound, a soft groan as you attempt to move.

"You’re finally awake," Qifrey's voice was gentle. His white lashes lowered, blue eye soft, lips curved in a relieved smile. "Thank the gods. You gave me such a scare."

"Qifrey…?" Your voice came out rough. "What happened?"

Qifrey squeezed your hand. "You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, traveling far too much, therefore you collapsed in the middle of the hallway. " He reached up, brushing dark hair from your forehead with infinite care. "I did urge you to rest, my dear. Seems like you simply don’t want to listen to me. My, just what am I going to do with you?"

You frowned. The words felt wrong, like a shirt buttoned crookedly. You tried to reach for the memory of what happened prior but… nothing. Just white space and fog. Your eyes searched Qifrey's face, trying to decipher his expressions but are met with only concern with a hint of fondness. Something in your chest loosened as you realized how Qifrey was just only looking out for you, that there’s no way he wouldn't lie to you. Why would he?

"I should probably go to the guest room," you murmured, already trying to sit up. "I don't want to impose anymore in your own room—"

And yet Qifrey's hand on your chest stopped you from doing anything else’s

"Nonsense." Qifrey smiled, that soft and private smile he kept just for you. "You're not a guest anymore. Remember?"

Your brow furrowed. "Remember what?"

Qifrey's smile widened. His thumb traced small circles over your sternum, just above where your heart hammered.

"Your proposal, silly," Qifrey said, as if reminding you of something delightful. He then proceeded to chuckle as if recalling a funny memory: "You were such a nervous little thing while you were trying to confess to me, like a nervous newborn fawn. You'd been holding it in for weeks it seems," A soft laugh. "And then you finally asked me to be your alpha. To be your mate and that you want to stay here, in the atelier, with me and the girls."

You stared.

Your heart was pounding now. But not with joy. With confusion. With a nameless, clawing unease that you couldn't place.

"I did?"

"You did." Qifrey confirmed as he leaned down, pressing his lips to your forehead. "And I said yes. Of course I said yes. I've wanted you for so long. You know that."

The unease grew louder yet so did something else, something warm and sweet and wrong, blooming in the hollow of your head like a flower planted in soil. Qifrey is safe. Qifrey loves you. This is what you wanted.

Wasn't it?

"I'm …glad you accepted, Qifrey," you heard yourself say, a bit unsure of yourself. And yet Qifrey's eye glinted in the candlelight.

"So am I, my treasure! " he beamed. "Took you long enough to notice my advances but as they say, better late than never! Oh, you’re going to be so happy here! With me and my apprentices. The girls will be overjoyed to hear that you’ll be staying!”

He pulled the blankets higher, tucking them around your body like a nest, like a cage lined with silk.

"Now rest," Qifrey murmured, stroking your hair. "I don’t want to strain you much further, my sweet, so don't you worry." His lips brushed your ear. "As your mate, I’ll take care of everything."